January 16, 2013

Too late, or too early?

In it, you not only acknowledge some redeeming characteristics of procrastination -- calling "positive procrastination" an actual thing -- but you cop to being a procrastinator yourself. Guess what? I am too! And I think we can both agree that there are far worse things than procrastinating. Like chewing with your mouth open. What are you, an animal?

Anyway, back to procrastination. I don't think persimmons are in season anymore, but I promise you they were, back in November. That's when I hacked my own RipePersimmon Apple Radicchio Stacks into salsa with the aid of a sharp knife and a looming deadline. Nothing like procrastination to inspire the laborious chopping of fruits and vegetables into fine dice, a task that takes slightly longer than forever.

A few tortilla chips later, that salsa was safely ensconced in my belly, and the deadline was still unmet. Slicing and dicing wasn't the best use of my time, perhaps, but when persimmons call, you answer.

Look, I meant to tell you about this sooner, back when persimmons were good and plenty. It's too late now, I suppose.

Comments

In it, you not only acknowledge some redeeming characteristics of procrastination -- calling "positive procrastination" an actual thing -- but you cop to being a procrastinator yourself. Guess what? I am too! And I think we can both agree that there are far worse things than procrastinating. Like chewing with your mouth open. What are you, an animal?

Anyway, back to procrastination. I don't think persimmons are in season anymore, but I promise you they were, back in November. That's when I hacked my own RipePersimmon Apple Radicchio Stacks into salsa with the aid of a sharp knife and a looming deadline. Nothing like procrastination to inspire the laborious chopping of fruits and vegetables into fine dice, a task that takes slightly longer than forever.

A few tortilla chips later, that salsa was safely ensconced in my belly, and the deadline was still unmet. Slicing and dicing wasn't the best use of my time, perhaps, but when persimmons call, you answer.

Look, I meant to tell you about this sooner, back when persimmons were good and plenty. It's too late now, I suppose.

Welcome to my blog. My name is Cheryl Sternman Rule. I’m a Silicon Valley food writer with a lot to say and a keen desire to share it with a broad audience. I write cookbooks and freelance for numerous national publications. To read my full bio and see samples of my print work, visit my portfolio website at cherylsternmanrule.com.